Hengeyokai
by El Stormo
Summary: A story based on a sidequest of the Vampire: The Masquerade Bloodlines game. This is the first story I'll be doing in this style, and I'll be following the story of the game in this one. Contains spoilers!


I met her in Chinatown, in an abandoned noodle-shop I had fled in to avoid the Tong members chasing me. Not that I was afraid of a few gun-toting kids, but a street fight would bring police running, and that would have painful consequences, since I must not, at any cost, let myself be revealed to the authorities.

She stood looking at me from behind the dirty counter, her head at an angle. The suspicion in her eyes was reinforced by her hand, resting on the hilt of the katana on the counter. She relaxed slightly when she saw the Tong members running by, but then she tensed up again, her eyes narrowing to slits as I felt her sensing me, and what I was. When I rose and made it clear I posed no threat to her, she released some of her tension and her expression changed from hostility to revulsion and disapproval.

"Konbanwa, demon," she said with an Asian accent. She was a young woman of obvious Chinese descent (it was, after all, Chinatown), with shoulder-length jet-black hair tied in two very short ponytails behind her ears.

"Why do you call me demon?" I replied, though I already knew what she would say and whom I was dealing with. The disdain in her gaze intensified.

"You are demon. Living soul in dead body."

"I see," I merely commented. "And you are one of those mortals who hunt us demons, correct?"

She bowed, but strictly out of formality, because I knew she felt nothing but enmity towards me. Hunters. So different and yet all the same. "I am Yukie. I come from homeland, chase Hengeyokai demon here. I will destroy Hengeyokai." She leaned in closer, threatening, "You will not interfere."

I had to repress a smile, because in her short skirt, white T-shirt and leather jacket, she didn't exactly look like an experienced demon hunter, more like a schoolgirl who had seen too many of those silly manga videos. "Aren't you a little young to be doing this," I asked, struggling to keep the amusement out of my voice. I hadn't succeeded entirely, so it seemed, because her face reddened and contorted in barely restrained anger.

"Hengeyokai kill my family! Hengeyokai kill my master! I take revenge on Hengeyokai, with master's sword!"

Aha, an apprentice. She lifted the katana in her hand and I only noticed now what an exceptional weapon it was. The blade was keener than any I'd seen before, and the hilt was intricately engraved and inlaid with gemstones. I have never been obsessed with weapons, seeing them more as tools to ensure my own survival, but this item was clearly a masterpiece.

"That's a wonderful sword," I remarked, sounding less impressed than I actually was.

She nodded. "Master's sword," she repeated.

"Can I see it?" I asked, holding out my hand.

"Doushite kan temae!" she snapped, outraged. "This is sword of master! Made for those with pure heart! Does not cut for demons!"

I had apparently insulted her again. Perhaps she thought I was going to steal it, or attempt to persuade her into selling it to me. So quick to anger, they were.

"Calm down," I soothed. "I'm not a thief or a monster."

She crossed her arms in front of her and gave me her disapproving stare again. "You are demon," she said, as if that settled the matter.

"I guess I am," I admitted. "But does that mean we are enemies? Being a demon by your standards doesn't necessarily make me evil, right?"

Her disapproval lost some intensity, and curiosity filled the space it left behind. "Not evil right now, maybe, but demon cannot stop evil nature. Will claim you sooner or later." As if I didn't know that already. Every night was a continuing struggle aganst the Beast. Something those Hunters always condemned, but never understood. That was, all except those who were Embraced by their prey and turned into that which they despised. And those were often the quickest to give into the Beast and fall into what the Elders called Wassail, the plunge into the abyss of madness and permanent frenzy.

"I should be going," I said gruffly, for I had lost all interest in continuing my conversation with this ignorant schoolgirl. I turned to leave abruptly, without awaiting her reply and after a quick look through the window, I opened the door.

"Wait."

I sighed ostentatiously and closed the door again. "What?"

"Have you ever heard name, 'Hengeyokai'?"

"From anyone else than you? No. What if I had?"

The girl sighed and lowered her head, apparently in conflict with herself. She sighed again and when she brought her head back up, her eyes were less hard and judgmental than before. "Chase Hengeyokai to this city, but lose its trail."

"...and?" I already knew where this was going, of course. She seemed unsure how to begin.

"Hengeyokai is demon, and maybe..." she hesitated, looking for the right way to say it, "...maybe other demons like you know something of Hengeyokai?"

"What makes you think those other demons will tell you anything?" Demons were not particularly prone to help the ones who hunted them.

"Hengeyokai is evil demon, not struggling demon like you." At least I'd convinced her of that. "Not dead body, but alive and made of pure evil. Evil not only to people, but evil to other demons as well. Hengeyokai only cares for Hengeyokai."

"I see. And you want to know if I could ask around for you, that it?"

She remained silent. Asking for my help had been hard on her pride already, and accepting it as well would have been too much, it seemed. You probably had to be Asian to understand. I didn't really know at first why I accepted, but I nodded and said, "I'll look into it." I wasn't eager to help a Hunter, even an apprentice, and it was only later that I realized why I'd agreed to aid her.

"I'll return if I find something," I said, and turned back to the door.

"Arigato... demon."

"I wish you'd stop calling me that," I said, and slammed the door.

If there was one 'demon' who'd know anything about this Hengeyokai-creature, it would be the one that I was about to visit anyway, since that was the one whom I already needed to speak to, concerning the disappearance of a Nosferatu named Barrabus. Well, that, and I needed to announce my presence in her domain, but seriously, did anyone still respect that tradition? No matter. I needed to speak with her regardless, so I might as well score some brownie points with the enemy, right?

The 'enemy' being the Kuei-Jin. We called them the Asian vampires, but in truth, they weren't vampires. Not really. They shared some similarities, but we were by no means the same. And the one I had to visit was the head of the Kuei-Jin in Chinatown, the Prince of the Kuei-Jin, you could say. Although even that wasn't the same. She resided in the Golden Temple, a 'piss poor copy of a real place', as my 'contractor' had said. Ming-Xiao, she was called, and it would seem she had more information as to where to find this Barrabus-character.

"Greetings, Kindred." The woman bowed as I entered, but again, this was pure formality, since relations between the Kindred and the Kuei-Jin were tense at best. "I thank you for having the courtesy to announce your presence in my domain. It is a tradition that few still respect." Chalk up one brownie point for me.

The conversation was mostly about similarities between Kindred and Kuei-Jin, with Ming-Xiao being as offensive as possible, without actually crossing the line. She was as disdainful as she dared concerning Kindred and their habits, and by the end of the conversation I had developed a serious (if silent) disgust for her and her pseudo-holy, self-righteous arrogance. Perhaps she believed she could goad me into sparking a conflict, since at one point she remarked that I was 'quite civil for a Kindred, especially one of the Brujah clan'. She probably believed I shared blood with Troile, as do most Brujah, inheriting her rebellious and polemic nature, while in truth I was one of the rare descendants of Brujah himself, and thus much less prone to fits of violence or loss of temper. I did nothing to discount her thoughts. Let her believe I was like my clanmates. When the formalities were dispensed with, I asked her about the Hengeyokai demon.

"Ah yes," she said as coolly as ever, arranging her black hair. "The Hengeyokai demon. I prefer to give its kind a wide berth, but it did do me the courtesy of announcing its presence here, and so I have given it permission to operate within the city. Under the express condition that it leaves my kin and their allies in peace."

"And could you perhaps aid me in finding it?"

She grew suspicious. "Why would you wish to meet with the Hengeyokai?"

"A triviality," I replied, stretching the truth by several arm's lengths. "Simply some scores to settle. I assure you, nothing that would have ill consequences for yourself, your kin or your associates."

"Perhaps Wong Ho can help you," she said evasively. "He owns the Red Dragon restaurant, and he knows many people and he will certainly be able to assist you."

Good thing I had already rescued this Wong Ho's daughter from the Tong, which was why they were chasing me before. I bowed shallowly and thanked Ming-Xiao for her time and aid. Not that she had given me much of the second.

"Hengeyokai, you say? I'm afraid I cannot help you, my friend, though I do thank you profusely for your aid in freeing my daughter, Kiki."

"I see." I replied disappointedly. "I had hoped you could be more helpful regarding this matter." I decided not to waste any more time on this dolt, so I walked out of the restaurant again, after stopping by the bar to get a 'drink'. What the Hell kind of name was Kiki, anyway?

Yukie had thawed a little since our previous meeting, greeting me with her usual cold demeanor, but the look of disgust had dissipated a little, although her arms were still sternly crossed in front of her chest. A shame she looked at me so coldly, because she was a pretty girl. "You find where Hengeyokai is hiding?"

I scratched my head, "Not yet. Do you have anything that can help me? Anything at all?"

She thought for a moment and then said, "Yes. Hengeyokai demon smell like fish."

I wasn't sure I heard it right the first time. "Fish?"

She nodded.

"You could have told me the first time, you know," I replied, a bit irritated that I could have used this sooner. Fish. Wasn't there someone at Wong Ho's restaurant that had complained about... yes, that's right! Someone at the restaurant had complained about the odour of fish wafting from the kitchen! And Wong Ho had replied that that was impossible, since the Red Dragon did not serve fish! So maybe that fish-smell had come from a person instead of the kitchen. "I'll be right back," I told Yukie. "I need to check something."

The smell of fish hanging in the bar of Wong Ho's restaurant was indeed rather powerful, and even though I scarcely breathed anymore, usually only because I needed the air to speak, my sense of smell was far keener than when I was alive. It allowed me to pinpoint the location of the fish-smelling patron with little effort. It was a man in his late twenties, with an ugly, boyish face that could only be described as sleazy. His hair was greasy and the smell of fish emanating from him was overpowering. I sat down at his table, and said, straightforwardly, "Greetings, Hengeyokai."

The man's gaze flickered and then he leaned in conspiratoriously, "You wish to speak with my master? Speak with Hengeyokai?" Apparently this was just a henchman.

"That's right. I have a business proposition for him." I said, sounding as important as I dared.

He nodded. "Business. Yes. That is wonderful." He chuckled mysteriously. "You come to old abandoned fishery on East side of town, yes? Ask for Zygaena," and then, quite redundantly, "I am Zygaena. I then bring you to master."

"Very well. What time?"

He looked around skittishly and got up. "Tomorrow at ten P.M. You be there!"

I returned to Yukie with the news, and when I told her I had found the Hengeyokai her stern face broke into a radiant smile, the first time I had seen her face wearing anything else than a frown. Again it struck me how pretty she was, definitely a refreshing change from those typical Hunters, with their battered old faces, maniacal eyes and European accents. If I had to die by a Hunter's hand one day, then I hoped it would be one like Yukie. It would at least make Final Death a bit less horrible.

"..., demon," she said solemnly. "We are not on same side, but we are not enemies either."

"That's good to know," I replied, and even though I had nothing real to fear from this girl, it still pleased me that we most likely wouldn't stand opposite each other with our weapons drawn. I guess it was mostly because I didn't want to fight this naive young woman, girl really, who probably didn't even realize what she was getting herself into.

"You must go now," she said suddenly, but without hostility. When I looked out the window I saw why: a lighter streak had formed in the night air on the horizon. It would be dawn soon. I quickly ran for a cab, told the driver to take me downtown as quickly as possible, and spent the entire drive looking nervously at the sky, but my fears turned out to be ungrounded, since the cab stopped in front of my building with quite some time to spare. Not all that much time though, as I could already feel the weariness setting in when I locked the door to my apartment behind me, the drowsiness that all vampires feel during the day. I kicked off my boots and after checking that the shutters in my room were lowered and closed firmly, as I did every morning, I dropped down on my bed and lapsed seamlessly into torpor.

I awoke when night fell, as I did every morning. In summer, nights are short, hasty and busy, but in winter, which it was at that time, the nights were longer, giving us nocturnal creatures more time to advance our agendas and to take care of business, for unlike living humans, we simply cannot 'stay up late' or pull all-nighters (although in our case they I imagine they should be called 'all-dayers'), and operating within a rigid time window requires some getting used to for every vampire. Some, in fact, didn't get used to it at all, leaving unfinished business and unfulfilled commitments every dawn.

I rose, stripped down and took a shower. Even though our dead bodies don't produce body odour, a shower is still effective for washing away the vestiges of sleep, and for cleaning our bodies, which have exhaust gases, hot dog smells and other city reeks clinging to them at the end of each night, as do human bodies at the end of the day. Running water, incidentally, does not damage our bodies. That's a fairytale.

When I got out of the shower, I toweled myself, put on a pair of underpants, slipped a large T-shirt over myself and combed my hair. And every evening I was surprised, with a sting of pain, how human I looked like this, amidst swirling wisps of steam, brushing my hair and clad in a white T-shirt that went all the way down to my thighs. And just like every evening, I allowed that melancholy to wash over me again, making me feel miserable and alone as I pulled up the shutters, sat down on my bed and watched the people go home from work. They would probably return to their families, have dinner together and watch T.V.. Then they would snuggle up next to their loved ones in bed (after sex or not) and sleep. Real sleep, not this paralysis we vampires suffered during the day. I can't even remember what sleeping feels like. A man in a suit, holding a briefcase stood by the bus stop, muttering to himself and looking at his watch every ten seconds. He was pudgy and bald, and looked very unhappy. He probably didn't have anyone to go home to. _Take heart_, I thought. At_ least you're alive_.

I've always found that I wasn't too badly affected by the sense of loss and overwhelming feeling of loneliness vampires invariably felt, and which every vampire expressed differently, but every night, as I sat on my bed in my T-shirt, combing my wet hair and looking at the people going home I felt it hard enough to last a whole night. I had cried very often in the beginning. Every evening, in fact, tears of blood that rolled onto my T-shirt and soaked into the carpet. The T-shirt had been washed many times, the carpet had not been so lucky. There were still brown stains where I sat now, and had sat then. And every night I looked at those stains and pushed back new tears. We vampires were nothing if not creatures of habit.

I finished combing and pulled myself into my bluejeans, put on a bra and black t-shirt, and donned my old leather jacket with all the zippers I still had from when I was a human. I loved that jacket. I also strapped my Brokk 7c handgun to my right leg, as I did every night before I went out. I looked at my alarm clock and the red LED-display told me it was 18:30. Plenty of time left. Perhaps I should pay a visit to Mercurio, a ghoul I had indebted to me by keeping my mouth shut about a serious slip-up of his, concerning explosives, a Sabbat warehouse, and Prince LaCroix. He had promised me he'd try to get some hands on some 'real firepower' for me, and he had e-mailed me saying I could come over and pick up a weapon he'd laid his hands on. And if you were fighting demons, you'd better not come armed with a peashooter.

"Anything I can do for you tonight?" Mercurio asked with his cheap mafia-accent. It was the only thing that was cheap about him, though. His clothes and his apartment were all luxurious and ridiculously expensive. And even though he was almost sixty, he looked like a healthy thirty-year old man. Ghouls didn't age, same as vampires, even though they needed their monthly fix of vampire blood.

"Hey Mercurio. I heard you had a weapon for me."

"Oh, right," he suddenly remembered. "I picked up a Jaegerspass 12-gauge from my European contact earlier this week. You can get rid of your old shotgun. This one does all the things your Utica does, and more." He took a large shotgun from a sports bag. It was larger than most shotguns, and it had a curved clip – which meant that it didn't require the user to load straight into the barrel.

"Nice piece. What does it do?"

"Well," he explained, "it's got a clip with a capacity of six shells, which means it reloads six times as fast as normal tubefeeds, and most importantly, it's capable of automatic fire. Let me tell you, if anyone walks into that blast, mortal or otherwise, it's instant squashed tomatoes."

"I'll bet," I replied, not unimpressed.

"Careful though, it's got quite a kick, so don't use its automatic fire unless you have to. You could end up pelleting nothing more than the ceiling."

"Alright, I'll keep that in mind. How much do I owe you for this fine weapon?" I bought items at a discount, naturally. Saving someone's life has these advantages. And sometimes saving someone's life gets you a few clips of shells thrown in as well.

"You ready?" I asked Yukie as I came back into the dirty noodle-shop. She wrinkled her nose when she saw the weapon I carried. Guns were probably dishonourable and all that crap.

"You would assist me in destroying Hengeyokai demon?" she asked incredulously.

I merely shrugged. I didn't want to seem too eager to help her, since she might get the wrong idea, that I was helping her to serve my own needs for instance, or that I was luring her into a trap (I was, after all a demon, and all that). "I thought you could use the help."

She thought for a while. "You swear you want to help me?"

I nodded, the most persuasive means I could think of to convince her.

"Then we go destroy Hengeyokai demon." She scooped up her sword and donned a series of polished iron pauldrons on her sword-arm, securing them with leather straps and buckles. She turned to me and she had almost transformed. The youthful ignorance in her face had moved aside for a grim determination, showing a strength I hadn't thought she possessed. She was still a young girl, and an apprentice, but she did show potential, a raw resolve that, if refined, would turn her into a powerful Huntress. So this fight would probably be her final exam. Well, not really, since she'd get help from me, but it'd still be a serious test. With high stakes, that much was certain.

We approached the warehouse at nine thirty, carefully sneaking around the place to see if there were any potential troublemakers around – this Hengeyokai-creature was not guaranteed to work alone (it had this Zygaena-character as a henchman, for instance), and knowing the battleground, if it came to a battle, naturally, was definitely necessary to even the odds, because even an Ancilla vampire like myself and an apprentice Huntress together would have a hard time going up against a decent-sized demon. Demons have remarkable strength and fortitude, and going toe-to-toe with one was a risky proposition at best. And great fortitude was something humans did not possess. Hunters were known to be powerful and capable of inflicting great damage, capitalizing on their quarry's vulnerabilities, but when it came to getting the damage dealt back at them they were quite hopeless.

We entered the warehouse through the small door near the closed garage entrances. The warehouse was a gloomy place, and it stank of fish so badly that Yukie's eyes watered. There were crates stacked in long rows and the roof was held up by struts, but other than that, the warehouse was empty. Empty except for one silhouette in the darkness. I motioned toward Yukie, indicating the light-switch, and she flipped on the lights, showing Zygaena standing in a large open space between the rows of crates. He was grinning stupidly.

"Welcome, Unliving one and Huntress."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Yukie snapped, "You take us to Hengeyokai right now!" leveling her katana at him. Zygaena only chuckled in response. "Hengeyokai is here already, Yukie. He has been expecting you," he said darkly. His face seemed to bulge very slowly, his eyes being pushed slowly out of their sockets, but he seemed to experience no discomfort.

"Of course," I sighed. "Zygaena and Hengeyokai are one and the same. What a surprise, really, you had me fooled there," I said sarcastically. Suddenly he began to expand at a quicker pace, and he was even turning blue. His eyes moved to the side of his head and his mouth grew wide, with three rows of fangs above and below. He grew too, expanding to three times his size, and his arms grew thick and muscled, with wicked claws. A large dorsal fin had even formed on his back. I hadn't noticed I had been walking backward, and forced myself to stop. I leveled my shotgun at the creature, preparing to let loose if it charged or came close, and next to me, I heard Yukie yell a curse in Chinese and from the corner of my eye, I saw her ready a crossbow she had carried on her back. There was a loud _twang_ and the projectile flashed toward the Hengeyokai, who had turned into a monstrous and grotesque landshark-creature by then. The bolt struck the demon in the left leg, and it bellowed, not in real pain, but more in annoyance. Then it snapped its maw in Yukie's direction, coiled like a spring and pounced, flying through the air, maw wide open and claws reared back to strike, straight at Yukie.

Blood is everything to vampires. It sustains us, but it is much more than a mere means of continued existence – although, admitted, all its properties ultimately served that purpose. We vampires can also use our stored blood to heal our damaged bodies or to temporarily enhance our physical prowess, but the most wondrous application of blood was its use as fuel for the so-called Disciplines, the set of powers that made a vampire powerful, and which were unique to every clan. The most powerful members of our kind were able to predict the future, competely control an enemy's actions, or even force an unknown target to attend the vampire from the other side of the globe. As a descendant of Brujah, the warrior-scholar, I carried special powers as well, though they were not nearly as developed as those the Elders commanded. Members of the Brujah clan are all able to burn blood to project an aura of awe or terror, to gain superhuman strength, or to accelerate their speed to incredible levels. I had focused primarily on Celerity, the speed-enhancing discipline, and I had developed a reasonable level of Potence, giving me great strength, as well. The Elders of my clan could even outrun trains and throw cars as easily as a human throws a grenade. Being an Ancilla, I was significantly more powerful than a new vampire, but still a rung below the Elders, which meant that I could move so quickly that I appeared as a blur to human observers, and that I could lift a large motorcycle with one hand and some effort.

I used both these powers now, simultaneously. It burned up a massive amount of blood in my system, but it would be the only way to save my unlife, and the life of Yukie. When I use my Celerity, the world around me appears to slow down, everyone and everything moving in slow motion except myself. The Hengeyokai's leap slowed to a crawl, and I charged at it, leapt up and delivered a crushing blow to the side of its head.Unfortunately, even though I appeared to be going at a normal speed, my velocity was so great that after dealing the blow, I flew head over heels into a stack of crates, shattering them into splinters of wood and sprays of fish guts. The crash hurt immensely, and I felt several vertebrae shattering when I hit a strut, bending it with the force of my impact. I screamed, kicked and writhed on the floor for the time it took me to burn more blood to heal my broken back.

In the meantime, the Hengeyokai's leap had ended much the same way as mine, my blow sending it off-course so it crashed into the ground next to Yukie, who slashed her katana down, aiming for the neck, but missing and hitting its shoulder. Black blood spurted out and the demon roared. The Hengeyokai leapt to its feet, its size belying its agility, and its fist pistoned out, but Yukie leapt aside lithely. The blow missed her head but hit her left arm, sending her spinning and knocking her to the ground. When she came down, I saw that her arm was at a horribly wrong angle. I heard Yukie scream, falling down as she clutched her arm. The Hengeyokai laughed in an inhumane bellow as it stood over Yukie and lifted its feet over her head, aiming to stomp her skull flat. At that moment, however, my broken vertebrae rearranged themselves under the power of my blood, aligning into place with a series of horrendously painful cracks. My Spazz had ended up some ten metres to the right of me, and I couldn't go and get it, my Celerity having worn off, so I pulled my Brokk from its holster and fired it empty at the Hengeyokai, pumping rounds into it until it only made a _click_. The impacts slammed into the demon, each bullet rocking its body slightly. Humans probably wouldn't survive a single shot of my pistol to the torso, but this wasn't a human, and the bullets, even though they did serious damage, were by no means enough to fatally injure this powerful creature. The Hengeyokai lost its balance and had to stagger backwards, its foot missing Yukie's head by an inch.

"BITCH!" the demon roared at me, picking up a crate in one hand and catapulting it toward me at an insane speed. I rolled aside just in time. The displacement of air stroked my cheek and the crate shattered against the broken strut. I dived for my Spazz, another crate flying by me too close for comfort. A red haze had started to develop in my vision and even through the tension and pain I felt a dry ring around my throat and the screams of hunger coming from my body. I snatched up the shotgun, but at that moment, a crate hit me full in the torso, doing no real damage, but sending me backwards to the ground. When I scrambled to my feet again, I saw that Yukie stood up behind the Hengeyokai's back, swaying. The Hengeyokai suddenly bellowed laughter and then it grabbed a large harpoon lying on top of a stack of crates. It hefted the weapon into the air and prepared to throw it at me. If it hit, it would skewer me, and without enough blood left to heal me, that would be the end. The damage itself would not kill me, but it would send me into torpor, giving the demon all the time it wanted to slaughter both Yukie and myself in a slow and painful fashion. Panic welled up inside me, the red haze intensifying until I saw the world only in shades of red and black. And in those shades, I saw Yukie take a step forward and slash her katana upwards with one hand. The weapon struck true, biting into the the demon's arm holding the harpoon, severing tendons and slashing open a large blood vessel, drenching Yukie's shoulder in black bilious ichor. The demon roared once more and this time Yukie was unable to dodge the fist pistoning out at her. It hit her full in the face with a loud _crunch_, lifting her off her feet in a spray of blood.

The last thing I consciously did was scream Yukie's name, and then the madness seized me. My hunger, injuries and my rage had created the perfect opportunity for the Beast to take over; and take over it did, propelling my body towards the Hengeyokai while my hand clicked the 'Full Auto'-switch on the Spazz. When the Hengeyokai reared back its good arm to slash me open with its claw, the Beast jerked my right hand closed so the index finger squeezed the trigger in a miniature death grip. The shotgun thundered and roared, its noise deafening in the warehouse, bouncing off the walls until it was the only sound in the world.

The Beast left me, and I stood alone in the warehouse, the shotgun click-click-clicking in rapid tempo, aimed at the fallen demon. Its head was gone, smashed apart into a pulp in a black puddle. Yellow mucus swam in the black blood, stinking horribly I forced my hand to relax, struggling against the spastic cramps clenching it tight. Eventually the shotgun clattered to the ground and my knees buckled. So hungry! I reached into my jacket pocket, still convulsing, and pulled out a small metal bottle. It was dented, but still whole! What a relief! I unscrewed the top, with tremendous effort, and gulped down the contents. It was blood that I had once stolen from a blood bank. Cold and weak, but enough to bring back my strength. It was after I dropped the empty bottle that I heard the weak gasping. Yukie was still alive!

I got up and crawled toward her. My strength was returning rapidly now, and I could walk after a few seconds and knelt down beside her. She was lying in a large puddle of blood, which only tempted me for a moment, until I saw her face. The right side had shattered, shards of bone sticking out of the red ruin which formed a dent in almost half her face. Her teeth were mostly gone, some broken, and some whole, sticking out in bright white. She was gasping shallowly, but her remaining eye was wide open and fixed on me. The white of the eye was turning red slowly, and her pupil had dilated in a desperate attempt to catch the light for what time still remained.

"Yukie," I breathed, and I knew of nothing else to say. She was definitely dying and doubtless in more pain than I could imagine. The blow had miraculously not broken her neck. Or 'unfortunately' was a better word. Her good hand gripped the sleeve of my jacket and I knew what she wanted to know, what she wanted to hear me say before death took her. I nodded.

"It's dead, Yukie. We destroyed it."

Her grip relaxed slightly and her eyelid fluttered. She would die, fulfilled at least in this regard. But she didn't have to die, I realized suddenly.

"Yukie... I can save you," I whispered. "I can pull you back!" Her eye fixed back on me, but then it rolled back again and she weakly shook her head.

"Not... become... demon like... you," she uttered through her broken mouth. "If you had... choice, you accept?" She coughed with a wet hacking sound. "Nothing left... in world... for me... anyway." Then she lapsed into Chinese, which I could not understand, but I believe that her mental faculties were shutting down already, and so what she said must have been mostly delirious. She managed to force her dying body to speak English one more time though, her eye staring at me with a sudden clarity. "Remember... demon. Not your fault... what you are, but your... responsibility... what you become." Then she slowly closed her eye and died.

I lifted her body and carried it out of the warehouse, my jacket over her face and her sword in her lap. She would be buried with her master's sword, I resolved, as I walked toward the noodle-shop's neglected garden, which was filled with bushes which would bear wonderful flowers come next spring. There was nobody in the street, most people had probably fled into their houses when they heard the gunfire, and cops didn't dare investigate gunfire in this part of the city. Good.

I lowered her body into the fresh grave I had dug for her, under the now bare branches of a rosebush, and when I reached down to retrieve my jacket, I paused, and then pulled my hand back out. "You keep it," I said quietly, then I shovelled the displaced earth back on top of her. Then I sat by her grave, thinking. The struggle between the Man and the Beast inside me was not finished, and never would be until the day I too met the end of my existence. But I had once again affirmed my humanity by helping Yukie, destroying the Hengeyokai and by burying Yukie with her master's sword. But the Beast grinned deep within me, quietly savouring its small victory and keeping its insane eyes fixed on the door out of its cage, which would not be smashed open for a long time, but had now been set ajar.

And as I walked away from the garden, I realized why I had agreed to help her, a night ago which now seemed like a month. I had thought I'd done it to prove my humanity to Yukie, but in fact, the only one I had been trying to convince was myself.


End file.
